Feelings I Can't Deny
by Miko Akako
Summary: As a rule, Kurt avoided diners...Until one day he breaks that rule. What other rules is he willing to break? Future fic AU. Written for KRB.


Story: Feelings I Can't Deny  
>Art: The art that inspired this story is called 'Strangeness and Charm' by <strong>captainamericaa<strong> (on lj and tumblr). If you haven't seen it already, I highly recommend checking it out. Amy is so talented and her pictures came out beautifully!  
>Author: MikoAkako<br>Beta: Holly-Anne Rivers  
>Rating: PG-13<br>Pairings: past-Klaine, Kurtofsky  
>Warnings: none<br>Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.  
>Word Count: ~8k<br>Summary: As a rule, Kurt avoided diners...Until one day he breaks that rule. What other rules is he willing to break?  
>Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.<br>A/N: This was written for **kurtofskyrebang** for 2011-2012. I had such a great time and I strongly recommend you check out all the amazing art/stories that this bang produced. Amy was an amazing artist to write for, and I can only hope I did justice to her concept. And of course huge thanks go to Holly-Anne Rivers for beta-ing this for me, even though she'd already turned off her computer for the night.

* * *

><p>As a rule, Kurt avoided diners. The food was made of fat and grease, and he was convinced that just breathing in the fumes of it would take up his daily allotted calories. Not to mention the general grime that covered the place, leaving his skin crawling and that even a scalding shower and a whole bottle of soap wouldn't erase.<p>

However, since he hadn't showered in two days and had eaten an entire tub of ice cream in one sitting, when the craving for fries hit him at three in the morning he decided the 24-hour diner he walked past every morning and afternoon on his way to and from school would be the best place to go. He pulled on sweat pants, and a hoodie and navigated his way out of the mess that was his apartment.

_Kelly's _was just around the corner and it took less than five minutes from the time he decided to go to when he sat down at the counter. The place wasn't as bad as he was expecting. The tables were all gleaming white under the florescent lights and under the smell of grease he could make out cleaning products.

The waitress looked like she was about his age, give or take a few years either way. Her uniform was loose, though she wasn't thin, as though she'd lost weight recently. Her hair was in tight ringlets better suited for an actress than someone working in a diner. She glanced up when he walked in and grabbed a pot of coffee and a mug, setting it in front of him before he'd even sat down.

"Haven't seen you in here before. You new in town?" She pulled out a menu and set it in front of him and he glanced over it casually. "I'm Mercedes Jones, by the way."

"Kurt Hummel," He said, eyeing the pancake platter and trying to decide if that would be better than fries. "I'm actually in my last year at NYADA."

"Aspiring actor, hm?" She gave him a knowing smile. "So what are you doing up so late? Or is it early for you?"

"Late. And I'm trying to drown myself in food and I'm out of ice cream."

"How long were you two together?"

"Five and a half years. We met in high school." Mercedes whistled appreciatively, shaking her head.

"In that case, I'd go with the pancakes." Kurt furrowed his brows, about to ask if she could read his mind. "I saw you eyeing them on the menu. They taste like rubber, but with enough butter and syrup they're pretty good."

"I'm sold. I'll take eight of them, then. And some scrambled eggs. And bacon."

"Damn, white boy. It's on the house if you can finish it." They made more small talk while she cooked. He found out she was from Ohio, and he confessed he grew up in Columbus. She'd moved to New York with her boyfriend who played on the minor league, while she went to NYU.

He didn't finish all the food even though he ate until he was bursting. He was laughing as he handed over a ten dollar bill, letting her keep the leftover as a tip. They exchanged numbers, and he promised he would stop by again soon. It wasn't until he was walking out the door that he saw he hadn't been alone. Sitting in a corner booth was a boy who looked a few years older than Kurt, head buried in a book. He resolved to ask Mercedes about him next time he got there.

xxx

The next few times Kurt went to the diner, the guy wasn't there and eventually Kurt forgot about him. While the food was still disgusting and without the catalyst of a broken heart he refused to let any of it past his lips. Coffee, he decided, didn't count. It also helped that Mercedes knew exactly how to brew the coffee, something Kurt had never managed to master. It always came out so weak it was practically water or so strong he could taste the grounds in it.

After a ten hour rehearsal, Kurt was jonesing for caffeine before he was comatose. He grabbed the coffee eagerly as soon as it was set on the counter in front of him, sloshing the contents around the cup. He took a greedy sip, ignoring the scalding heat in his desperate need for a caffeine fix. It wasn't until his headache started to subside that he took a minute to observe the only other customer; an attractive man bent over a book at the far edge of the counter.

"So who's that?" Kurt whispered to the waitress, cocking his head towards the man. "And why have you been keeping him a secret from me? I thought we were friends."

"One of the law students," she answered, pouring him another cup of coffee. "Dave Karofsky."

"I played a law student once," Kurt said, forgoing subtlety and openly ogling when it became obvious Dave was lost in his own world. His taste in fashion was obviously nonexistent. The only reason anyone should wear that shade of orange was if they were blind and someone played a nasty joke on them. Paired with an atrocious baseball cap and it was like he was begging Kurt to give him a makeover.

"Two lines in a school production of 'Legally Blonde' probably doesn't count, sweetie," Mercedes said, turning around to get a rag to clean the counters. Kurt scoffed at her.

"Sure it does. Besides, it's not like I'm going to jump into bed with him. I've barely gotten over being dumped by my first boyfriend. I'm just going to be neighborly." Now it was Mercedes' turn to scoff, and Kurt turned up his nose at her.

"This is New York. No one is neighborly." Kurt ignored her, grabbing his coffee and walking up to the guy, who didn't look up even as Kurt slid on to the seat beside him.

"Kurt," He said, introducing himself. Dave shrugged, looking back at his book. "So I hate to bother you, but I lost my wallet and I was wondering if I could borrow the money to pay for the coffee. I'll pay you back tomorrow, scouts honor." He gave his most charming smile, holding up his hands in what he was pretty sure was the boy scouts symbol.

"Uh…yeah, sure." Dave didn't even glance up at Kurt, grabbing his wallet and pulling out a five. Kurt took it with a frown, not like it mattered since Dave wasn't going to see anyway.

Determined not to let that setback deter him, he leaned closer, inhaling the steam from the coffee. "Interesting book you have there…." He paused. "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."

"Dave," He supplied, shutting the book and looking up at Kurt for the first time. Kurt got a slight satisfaction from the shocked look on Dave's face, but that look vanished just as quickly as it appeared. It didn't matter, because it told Kurt all he needed to know.

"So you're a law student, then?" Kurt asked, sharing a smile with Mercedes. She shook her head at him but made no move to intercept him.

"Second year at NYU Law," He said, shrugging. His skin was tan, but Kurt knew he caught the edges of a blush. "You?"

"That's impressive," Kurt said. "I'm in my last year at NYADA." He held Dave's gaze, trying to judge his reaction. Most people formed prejudices against musical theatre majors, but Dave didn't flinch.

"Do you, uh, come here often?" He asked, eyes flicking around the room.

"Is that the best line you have?" Kurt responded, laughing. Dave flushed noticeably and looked down, hiding his eyes under his cap in a move that was strangely shy.

"It wasn't…I mean…we just met and…" He fumbled for words and Kurt just watched him, a smile on his lips. Eventually he took pity on the bigger man and placed a hand on his forearm to get his attention.

"Calm down. That was a joke," He said slowly. Taking his hand back and putting in front of his mouth to keep from laughing. Dave tried to brush it off, but his face was still bright red. It was endearing, really. "Are you always so sensitive?"

"I just...Uh…didn't want you to get the wrong impression," Dave mumbled. "About…you know…"

"Your sexual orientation?" Kurt asked, holding his breath. He was really sure they played for the same team, but he'd been known to get it wrong in the past. Not like any of those mattered, because he'd had Blaine and wasn't looking.

"No. Uh…I have one. A…a boyfriend, I mean." His hand steadied on his drink but he still wouldn't meet Kurt's eyes. "So yeah."

"Fascinating," Kurt said with a wry smile. Dave stopped stuttering and looked up at him. "So what's his name?"

"What?" Dave asked.

"Your boyfriend?" Kurt prompted. Dave opened and closed his mouth a few times.

"Adam. His name is Adam." Dave managed to pull himself together by the end and Kurt let it go. He was sure now that Dave was lying, but like he told Mercedes - he wasn't interested in a relationship anyway. Not that it would stop him from imagining.

"Well, I won't pry," He said with a grin, standing up with his empty coffee mug. "And to answer your question; I'm here two or three times a week around this time. But I should head out; I'm meeting friends to run lines for our upcoming production. Thanks for the coffee, bear cub."

That last comment threw Dave off so much he barely managed to stumble out a goodbye before Kurt handed the five to Mercedes and left. Kurt was glad he turned away as he said it, because his own face turned a nice shade of red as well. He had never been a flirty person, preferring to wait for other's to make the first move. In high school, he once compared his sex appeal to that of a baby penguin.

His hands were still shaking when he made it back to his apartment. He'd gone from feeling cocky to feeling like an idiot. He knew his 'sexy' voice sounded like a twelve year old girl, and he couldn't figure out what got in to him. He kept replaying their conversation in his head, turning a brighter shade of red each time. He was planning on digging a hole in the ground and just burying himself in it. At least that way he would never have to face Dave again.

xxx

For someone who, a few short months ago, swore he would never set foot in a diner, Kurt found himself returning to _Kelly's_ quite frequently. After his disastrous attempt at flirting, he would glance in the windows to make sure Dave wasn't there before walking in. No matter how much time passed, even the thought of facing Dave again was enough to bring color to his face.

Which was a shame since lately the law student had been the feature of so many of his dreams. When he found his thoughts straying, the first time since he'd broken up with his ex, he reminded himself that he didn't even know Dave, and it was obvious that he wasn't interested. Or maybe he was, with his shy smiles and stammering. And then he remembered that the point was moot – he was never going to see Dave again. That thought upset him more than he thought it should.

Mercedes delighted in teasing him about it. It was nice, having that type of relationship with someone. Everyone at NYADA was hyper aware that in a few months, they would be competing for the same limited number of roles, and he hadn't had that many friends in high school, certainly none that survived four years and two hundred miles. So he took the teasing in stride, giving as good as he got.

"Don't turn around, but guess who just walked in?" She leaned forward, her eyes on the door. Kurt just rolled his – it was an old trick, one she'd used a few times.

"You're not getting me with that one. There's no way he's here. He's never here this early." Feeling smug with himself, he nearly jumped out of his skin when someone spoke from right behind him.

"Who's never here this early?" The voice asked. Kurt squeaked in surprise and spun around, face to chest with, going by the terribly fabric of the sweater, none other than Dave himself. Kurt recovered his dignity quickly, slipping on a confident smile in imitation of someone he hated once.

"No one," Kurt said. If his voice was a little higher than normal it wasn't obvious. "Hello Dave. How's school?"

Dave shrugged, sliding onto a seat beside Kurt and thanking Mercedes when she poured him a cup of coffee. Kurt was surprised to notice it was decaf, but didn't say anything in favor of taking a sip of his own drink. "How's yours?"

"Fantastic!" Kurt gushed. School he could talk about. It was a neutral subject, and he'd just had a conversation about it the day before with his dad. "I got a huge part in the spring musical and practice has been taking up all of my time. On top of my thesis project, I haven't had more than five minutes to myself."

"Sounds rough," Dave said. "Congratulations, though. On the part."

"Thanks." It was as awkward as Kurt had been worried about, but then Dave smiled and he'd have to be blind for his heart not to melt. They sat in uncomfortable silence for several minutes before Mercedes took pity on him. Kurt had been trying to get her attention, but she had been ignoring him. Finally, she walked over under the pretence of refilling Kurt's still half-full coffee.

"So, Kurt, did you know Dave is from Ohio as well?" He wanted to reach over and strangle her for her not-so-subtle attempt at starting a conversation between them. Instead, he took the bait and turned to Dave.

"Really? What part?"

"Uh..Findlay. It's like an hour south of Toledo." Kurt nodded, trying to place it in his head. He'd driven through there once with his dad on the way to Detroit, but he didn't remember anything about it other than the "Welcome to Findlay" sign on the side of the road. "You?"

"Columbus, actually. Big cities have always been my thing." He'd been dreaming of New York from the moment he learned who Barbra Streisand and Patti LuPone were. His dad wanted him to stay in Columbus, but New York called to him and he'd answered.

"I always liked small towns," Dave admitted.

"But you chose to go to NYU? Why?" Kurt could almost see Dave draw back into himself and wanted to know why, but he didn't know how to ask. Instead he let himself be content with the half answer Dave ended up giving him.

"They gave me a good scholarship. And then I got into the law school so I figured I might as well stick around." He did that one shoulder shrug again, the one that drove Kurt crazy trying to interpret. "Well, I actually have to go, but…I'll be here again tomorrow morning, if you're around."

"I might be," Kurt said. He couldn't help but think of the words as an invitation. One he was planning on accepting, awkward silences and all.

xxx

It wasn't until Kurt woke up the next morning that he realized he had absolutely nothing to wear. His closet was full of clothes, but there was nothing appropriate for a coffee date-that-wasn't-actually-a-date. He automatically took out anything that would scare Dave away – corsets, stockings, anything with lace. That still left him with a plethora of choices, but nothing was quite right.

In the end, he grabbed a pair of tight black jeans, a black trimmed dress shirt and a vest to put over it. When he went to grab his hair spray, he realized it had been so long since he'd seriously styled his hair – he always used mouse and a blow dryer, but hair spray was reserved for special occasions – that it had worked its way to the back of the shelf, sitting next to the bottle of cologne he'd bought his ex for their five year anniversary.

He pulled out the clear bottle, feeling the tightening in his chest that happened any time something reminded him of Blaine. He let his fingers smooth over the surface, letting his thoughts drift to the day he'd picked it out. He had spent hours trying to figure out the perfect scent. He was convinced by the end of the day he would never get rid of the smell of cologne. But Blaine's face when he saw it was enough to make the torturous experience worth it. He had every intention of throwing the bottle away, but found he just couldn't do it. Instead, he put it down on the counter and finished getting ready.

"Hey stranger," Mercedes said when he walked in. He tried not to look disappointed that Dave wasn't there, but she could see right through him. "What happened to never wanting to see him again?"

"I just wanted coffee this morning," he said primly, sitting down and crossing his legs as he looked away from her.

"Right. And that's why you dressed up?" She didn't buy his story for a minute, but he was spared from having to defend himself when the door opened and Dave walked in, hands in jeans pockets and eyes scanning the room until they settled on Kurt.

"Hey," Dave said, his features softening into something that wasn't quite a smile. He was wearing a slightly less offensive outfit. Red was a good color on him and the jeans weren't quite so baggy. Now that he wasn't hiding under loose clothes, Kurt was able to see that he was quite muscular.

He couldn't keep himself from comparing Dave to his ex. They were totally different types. Blaine was short, Dave was tall. Blaine was built like a dancer, while Dave was more like a football player. As different as Dave was, Kurt was pretty sure his type wasn't as set in stone as he'd thought.

"Good morning." He said, sliding the cup of coffee he'd ordered for Dave over in front of him. When the awkward silence started, Kurt forced himself to break it.

"Can we just start over?" He asked, leaning forward. "Hi, I'm Kurt Hummel."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Dave Karofsky." He took the hand Kurt had extended and shook it.

"How long have you been in New York?" Kurt asked. They took turns asking questions. Kurt learned that Dave was born in Maine but moved to Ohio when he was four, that his favorite color was green, and that caffeine made him jittery.

"Wait – you don't ever drink coffee?" Kurt was incredulous. "I can't make it through the day without at least one cup."

"I've never needed it to stay awake. But I like the way coffee taste so…" He put his hand around his mug of decaf.

"No one likes the way coffee taste!" Kurt insisted. He forced himself to drink it black, but only because sugar and cream were extra calories he didn't need, not because he wanted to enjoy the flavor.

"Maybe I'm just weird."

"Is that your biggest secret?" Kurt asked with a laugh. It was amazing how natural it was, talking with Dave. It seemed like they had moved out of the terribly awkward phase, and had found a natural rhythm to their conversation.

"You don't even want to know my biggest secret," Dave said. His body tensed as he said it and it came out more like a threat than a joke, but Kurt pretended he didn't notice. Everyone was entitled to secrets, and he had plenty that he planned on taking to his grave. The clock behind the counter caught his eye and he jumped up.

"Oh crap. I'm gonna be late for class." He pulled out his wallet, tossing enough money on the counter to pay for both of their drinks before shoving it back in his bag which he slung over his shoulder. "We should do this again sometime. It was nice."

"Uh…Yeah."

"Bye Dave!" Kurt rushed out the door. He felt Dave's eyes follow him, and he smiled to himself as the cool air hit his face, a contrast to the warm diner. He raised his hand for a cab, a luxury he normally did without, and realized they had no way to get in touch with each other.

xxx

Even though he was late for his first class, Kurt spent the entire day on cloud nine. His good mood was infectious, because even his normally stern voice coach gave him an outstanding performance review on his rendition of 'I'd Be Surprisingly Good for You.' So by the time he got back to his apartment that night he was practically skipping.

His good mood hit a stumble when he saw the bottle of cologne in the bathroom. He shoved it in the back of the cabinet, still unable to throw it away though he wasn't sure why. But deep down he knew that if Blaine were to show up at his door asking to come back, Kurt wasn't sure he would be able to say no. That thought was depressing; he thought he'd have more independence than that, but old habits die hard and Blaine had been a part of his life for nearly a quarter of it. He was interrupted from his musings when his phone buzzed.

_-I hope it's alright that I'm texting you. I got your number from Mercedes after you left._

A few moments later a second text followed.

-_This is Dave Karofsky, by the way._

Kurt smiled, flipping out his keyboard and typing a reply.

**-**_**Remind me to thank Mercedes next time I see her. Sorry for running out on you like that**__._

_-No worries. Did you make it to class? _

_-__**I was a few minutes late, but she was just starting vocal exercises when I got there. **_

Kurt's finger's hesitated over the keypad, debating if he should type what he was thinking or just leave it there. He didn't know the protocol for this situation and doubted there was a book or musical that could clear up the shades of grey. A text back from Dave solved the problem for him.

_-I have to go. My study group just got here. We have a huge exam tomorrow morning. But maybe if you're not doing anything next week I'll see you for coffee?_

Kurt felt a little like a crazy person smiling so hard at a phone, and the small squeal of excitement he let out didn't do anything to help that feeling.

-_**I'd love to. Good luck on your test tomorrow!**_

By the time Thursday rolled around again, Kurt and Dave had been exchanging regular texts. On some level Kurt felt guilty when his phone would buzz, sending his heart racing and guaranteeing a smile on his lips. He felt like he was leading Dave on, even though that wasn't his intention. It was undeniable that Kurt liked Dave, and he was fairly certain Dave reciprocated, but then there was the bottle of cologne. Every morning he woke up determined to throw it out, but every night he tucked it back in the cabinet so it wouldn't break.

That didn't stop him from digging through his closet Wednesday night – and again Thursday morning because _what_ was he_ thinking_ when he bought that terrible pinstriped monstrosity – for an outfit to wear. It didn't put the fluttering in his stomach to rest when he looked through the windows and saw the law student sitting at the counter. It certainly didn't stop him from putting his foot in his mouth within five minutes of their conversation.

"What?" Dave didn't sound mad, and the way one of his perfectly sculpted eyebrows raised indicated amusement and not anger, but Kurt still felt like a jerk.

"I mean, some people can pull off that shade of yellow, but with your skin tone…Oh fuck – shit, pretend I didn't say that." He felt himself turning bright red and decided to back pedal. "I just mean, if you ever need help shopping for clothes, I'm kind of an expert in that department. That didn't sound any better, did it?"

Dave laughed, a full chest laugh, and Kurt realized that while he'd heard Dave chuckle on a handful of occasions, this was the first time Dave laughed genuinely. He would have enjoyed it a lot more if it didn't feel like he was the one being laughed at. "Not really, no. But I appreciate the offer."

"If you're going to laugh at me, I rescind the offer," Kurt said, trying to recover at least a shred of dignity.

"No, it's not that. It's just…I didn't buy this shirt. My friend bought it for me. But now that I think about it, we were never really that close, and he did have terrible taste in clothes. Even I knew that, and that's saying something."

"It certainly is," Kurt agreed. "How exactly did you make it through high school and college without learning how to wear anything besides a t-shirt and jeans?"

"I wear things besides t-shirts and jeans!" He protested lamely. "Fine. Maybe not. But it works!"

"What about when you finish school, hmm?" Kurt challenged. "You're going to show up in court wearing jeans? I may not be a lawyer, but I'm pretty sure that's not acceptable."

"I'll get suits and stuff. When I graduate."

"I'm free this weekend. I won't make you buy anything, but at least let me take you around." Kurt kept eye contact with Dave, watching the internal struggle in the other man. He saw the moment Dave conceded.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope." Kurt said with a smug smile. "Eleven on Saturday work for you?"

"Fine. But you have to do something for me in exchange." Kurt hesitated for a moment, reining in his thoughts which went way in the gutter at that comment. Finally, he nodded. "Good. I'll see you on Saturday, then."

"Wait! What do I have to do for you?" Kurt asked, but Dave had already paid for the coffee's and was standing. The look he gave Kurt made his heart flutter.

"You'll see." Kurt couldn't tell if the words were ominous. "Good-bye, Kurt."

xxx

Dave was waiting for him outside the diner when Kurt got there at eleven. As if in rebellion to the spirit of the day, he was wearing those baggy jeans and an old sweat shirt. Kurt sighed in exasperation, rolling his eyes at Dave's style choice. Dave was frowning at his phone, finishing a text just as Kurt walked up.

"Ready to go?" He asked, cocking his head to the side. "Not having second thoughts?"

"I should be asking you. I'm pretty sure I'm a hopeless case." He made a motion towards his outfit. Kurt refused to be cowed.

"You can't scare me off. I'm a professional. You should have seen my step-mother before I got a hold of her," He grinned. He and his step-mother had never gotten along very well, but she made his dad happy and that was all Kurt cared about. After he took her out shopping, she'd warmed a little to him.

"Let's get this over then," Dave said, falling in to step beside Kurt.

"That's the spirit!" Kurt said with enthusiasm.

Dave wasn't actually as hopeless at shopping as his wardrobe led Kurt to believe. He had a natural inclination toward denim, though was absolutely blind when it came to sizes, which was where he got in to trouble with his current pair. He also favored solid colored t-shirts. Kurt grabbed a few jeans in the correct size with different washes and some button down shirts and handed them to Dave, ushering him in to the fitting room and standing outside the door.

"I look like an idiot," Dave called a few minutes later.

"I'll be the judge of that," Kurt returned. "Let me see."

"No way. This was a bad idea."

Kurt put a hand on his hip, tapping his foot. "Do not make me crawl under the door, David, because I swear I will."

"Don't get your panties in a knot." Dave mumbled, just loud enough for Kurt to hear. A moment later the latch on the door turned and was pushed open. Kurt let his eye slide objectively over the fit of the outfit, but found his gaze lingering. The sleeves hugged his arms, highlighting the muscles there, and it was a little tight across the chest, but only because Dave's shoulders were so wide. It took all his strength to stop ogling and continue on. The jeans were much better than the terrible pair he'd worn earlier. They weren't as tight as Kurt's pairs, but Dave didn't have the body for that. This pair hugged his hips in exactly the right way.

"So…?" Dave asked. Kurt flushed, looking away. He'd been staring for far longer than was necessary. He cleared his throat to get rid of the tightness.

"Uh…It looks good. I'll uh…go get you one size bigger for the shirt." While he was gone he focused on cooling his thoughts. He was here with a friend, helping a friend get a few new clothes. Just friends. He repeated that in his head while Dave changed shirts.

"What do you think?" He called over the stall.

"I guess I see your point," Dave said, opening the door. The shirt fit better, not as tight across the chest or on the arms, but not completely hiding his body either. "Better?"

"Much," Kurt said, stepping forward and adjusting the shirt that was slightly off center. His hands brushed against Dave's arm and he pulled away as if stung. They both froze, tension running between them for a few moments that felt like hours. Finally Kurt stepped back, mumbling an apology.

"I'm gonna go change," Dave said, vanishing behind the door.

Kurt walked down the hall to the mirror. He rested his forehead against the cool surface. God, he was such an idiot. He could be friends with Dave without falling for him. Right? He wasn't so sure any more. He still didn't know very much about Dave, aside from his major, where he was from and some stupid little facts he'd chosen to share. And Dave hardly knew him as well. He hadn't told Dave anything about Blaine, or his family or really anything important. They'd shared coffee a few times, but that was it.

"Uh…Are you okay?" Dave's voice startled him out of his internalization and he spun around.

"Fine," He drew himself up, pushing all the confusing feelings away. "So, are you ready to shop for business casual?"

"Aren't we done?" Dave asked, holding up the clothes he'd already tried on. Kurt just laughed. Dave's expression turned to confusion. "Please tell me you're joking. Kurt. You're joking. Right?"

Now that Kurt had a better idea on how to size Dave, they went through the rest of the store quickly. There were a few standoffs that usually ended in a compromise. Kurt tried his hardest to get Dave to try on a pink polo, insisting the color would compliment his skin tone, but settled on mint green when Dave refused to even touch the pink one. Dress pants were another sore subject. No matter how vehemently Kurt swore that pinstriped pants were coming in to fashion, Dave wouldn't put on anything but solid colors. But four hours later, they had a decent sized stack of clothes and hadn't attempted to murder each other, so Kurt considered the day a success.

"Uh…I don't think I can afford all of this," Dave said. Kurt could see him calculating it in his head and sighed. "Just…Why don't I get some now, and I can come back and get the rest when I get my next check."

"Trust me; this is under what you told me you could spend today." He picked up his pile, careful not to wrinkle the dress shirts, and headed towards the cashier. A few moments later he heart Dave start walking.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," Kurt said. When he saw Dave's expression, obviously still doubting him, he continued, "How about this? If it's more, I'll pay the difference, and if it's less you can buy me dinner."

"Deal," Dave agreed instantly. Kurt smiled smugly. Math wasn't his best subject, but he'd perfected the art of shopping on a budget. It had been years since he had gone over a limit, and this wasn't going to be one of those times.

Fifteen minutes later and Kurt's smug smile was still in place as the last item was rung up. Dave didn't look upset in the least for having lost the bet, looking more alert than he did for the last hour of shopping. Kurt tried not to read too much into that, but he couldn't keep from hoping that it was the thought of dinner that put that small smile on Dave's lips.

"So when are you taking me to dinner?" Kurt asked.

"When are you free?" Dave asked.

"Hmm…" Kurt thought to the next week. His social calendar was pathetically empty, the side effect of being in a relationship for so long. "How about tonight? Seven?"

Dave looked at his watch briefly. Kurt caught a glimpse of it as well. It was only just past three, so Kurt would have plenty of time to change and freak out before they went to dinner. Because even though it wasn't a date, it was close enough to one to put him out of his comfort zone.

"Sure. Should I pick you up at your place or do you wanna meet at _Kelly's_?" Dave asked. Kurt considered for a moment.

"I'll text you my address. Now go hang up those clothes – I don't want to see those shirts wrinkled."

They said goodbye and went their separate way. As soon as Dave was out of sight, Kurt pulled out his phone and texted Mercedes, asking if she could help him get ready for something. He left out details, but she agreed to be at his house in an hour.

xxx

"I thought you weren't interested in a relationship with him?" She asked when Kurt finished filling her in. She knew most of the story, but he gave her a detailed description of what happened while they were shopping, including his momentary freak out. "But it sounds like he likes you. What about the boyfriend?"

"I'm pretty sure he was lying about that," Kurt said, holding a white ruffled dress shirt up, discarding it at the wrinkled nose Mercedes gave it. "But anyway, this isn't a date. It was a bet."

"Mmm-hmm. And that's why you begged me to come over three hours early to help you get ready? You've fallen for him. Trust me, I know the signs." Kurt rolled his eyes at her. "You started caring what you wearing after you started meeting him, you talk about him all the time, and when you think he's not looking you give him the most pathetic looks."

"I do not give him any look! And I'm not falling for him. I'm just…I really like spending time with him." She opened her mouth to talk and he held up a hand. "As _friends._"

"Sure, honey. You just tell yourself that."

"Now be quiet and help me pick out an outfit!" He snapped his fingers and she laughed, getting up off the bed and walking to the closet. After a brief perusal, she reached in and pulled out a button down shirt in a light blue with white cuffs and collar and black pants. He took it as she shoved it at him, watching her look through his scarves. She settled on a dark blue one.

"It's conservative, so you won't scare Dave off, but still you." She seemed pleased with herself, and Kurt had to give her props. He couldn't have chosen a better outfit himself.

He was surprised to see he only had an hour left when he looked at the clock. It hadn't felt like two hours since Mercedes had arrived. The outfit looked even better on, and then all he had to do was fix his hair. Mercedes didn't push him to admit feelings for Dave any more, and instead they turned to talking about her boyfriend, Sam. At five minutes 'til seven, she left after he promised to tell her everything.

Dave buzzed up right at seven. Kurt, already at the door, rushed down, stopping at the last minute to catch his breath before opening the door and sliding outside. Dave was wearing one of the shirt's Kurt had picked out for him.

"Nice outfit," Kurt said, feeling like a teenage girl standing there, awkward and unsure of what to do, what to say.

"Thanks." Dave gave a cautious smile. "So I know a deli on 7th that's pretty good. Unless there's somewhere you want to go?"

"Sounds perfect."

They took a taxi, Dave paying for the whole thing even though Kurt had his wallet out. Kurt flushed, pleased by the thoughtfulness. He made it until they were seated before asking the question that had been floating around his mind since Mercedes brought it up.

"What about Adam?"

"Adam?" Dave asked, looking confused.

"Your boyfriend," Kurt prompted. Dave blushed and Kurt knew his initial guess was correct; there was no Adam. He felt irrationally happy about that.

"Can I confess something?" Kurt nodded, leaning forward slightly. "Uh…There is no Adam. I was just…I don't know. You intimidated me. What about you?"

"Nope. I've never met anyone named Adam, actually. Though Adam Lambert was my icon in high school." He smirked, remembering the life sized poster of the glam rocker he kept rolled up under his bed. Rock music wasn't his favorite genre, but he was guilty of belting out a few of Adam Lambert's songs. Dave snorted when he confessed that. "Well, what type of music do you like?"

"Classic rock, I guess. Beatles, Rolling Stones, Grateful Dead. Uh…Definitely Queen. Blue Oyster Cult. You get the picture." Dave's choice of music didn't really surprise Kurt, though he had pegged Dave as more of a heavy metal or alternative fan when they first met. "But I…uh…I meant doyouhaveaboyfriend?"

Kurt could have pretended he didn't know what Dave said, since the sentence came out in a jumble, but it was the question he was expecting. He sighed. "Not at the moment."

"Oh." It was a single syllable, but spoken more like a sigh. Kurt saw Dave searching for a new topic, but knew that there were still questions. Thankfully the waiter came to take their order. When the man was gone, Kurt turned to Dave.

"Since you're too much of a gentleman to ask, I'll just tell you. My ex and I were together for…a long time. He cheated on me – with a girl – and left me for her. So trust me when I say that I've got more baggage than anyone would want." He was proud of how calm he sounded. It was the first time he'd admitted out loud what had happened. When his dad called, he lied and said he and Blaine were still together. Even with Mercedes he just alluded to the truth and changed the subject.

His friends at school already knew, but only because Blaine had thought Kurt wouldn't make a scene if there were other people around. How wrong he'd been. He could still capture the feeling of absolute rage he'd felt, followed by crushing pain. The exact words he'd spoken – shouted – were forgotten, but he could replay exactly what Blaine had said to start everything.

To his surprise, the pain wasn't as consuming as it had been. He didn't notice when it started to lessen, only that now, sitting in the restaurant with Dave, it was more like a shallow ache and less like being stabbed in the gut. It felt like a relief, as well as like a betrayal. But then Dave said something and he was pulled out of his reminiscence.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing. I just said he must be a real tool," Dave said.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm starting to see that now. Wish I could have known five years ago." He chuckled slightly and turned his head. "So anyway…Why do you hang out in _Kelly's_?"

"It's a good place to study when I have to pull all-nighters. The library at school is always packed, plus it's like zero degrees. And I like to people watch. The most interesting people come in to diners in the middle of the night." He quirked his lips up. "Like boys in sweat pants who order meals that weight more than they do."

"You saw me?" Kurt was surprised. He hadn't noticed Dave until he was leaving that night, but he'd never once thought Dave may have seen him. The next time they were in there together was the first time they'd spoken, and Kurt was sure Dave hadn't been looking at him that time.

"You're kind of hard to miss," Dave said, color rising in his cheeks. Kurt didn't know how to take that compliment, but felt his own face heat up slightly.

The food came then, and the conversation changed again to more trivial subjects, but the conversation they'd just had was weighing on Kurt's mind. There was no use in denying it any longer – he liked Dave. It was stupid trying to convince himself that it was only feelings of friendship, because he continuously had to pull his gaze away from Dave's lips when his thoughts turned to what it would be like to kiss the law student or away from his arms when he imagined the feeling of being held in them. His thoughts sounded like those of a teenager, and he wasn't sure he liked it.

They finished eating and took a cab back to Kurt's apartment. Kurt felt a surge of adrenaline as they walked up to his building; shoulder's brushing briefly, only a ghost of a touch. What he was considering was stupid and reckless and completely out of character. But when Dave turned towards him, mumbling something about having a good time, he didn't hesitate.

Kurt felt Dave's surprise in the tightness of his lips as Kurt's made contact. He also felt the moment when Dave relaxed into it. The kiss was awkward and short, but made Kurt's heart race in a way that he hadn't felt in…years. Everywhere they were touching seemed to be on fire; Kurt's hand on Dave's stubbled jaw, Dave's hand on Kurt's hip, their chests pressed close. Even through layers of clothing he was acutely aware of Dave's body heat.

"What was that?" Dave asked, voice husky with surprise.

Kurt's answer was higher in pitch. "Tomorrow. We'll talk about it tomorrow morning, okay?" Dave just nodded. Kurt, still running on adrenaline, leaned forward and pressed his lips to Dave's cheek gently, trying to memorize the feeling.

xxx

Kurt had only managed to sleep for a few hours. The events of that day running through his head on repeat, giving him a giddy feeling that defied relaxation and certainly left no room for sleep. He was already dressed by six. He leapt down the stairs, taking them two at a time, heedless of his own safety. Dave wouldn't be at the diner until after seven, but he couldn't stay in his apartment any longer.

He'd only been there fifteen minutes when the door to the diner opened, exposing a familiar silhouette. It wasn't Dave standing in the door, though it was someone he recognized instantly even though their head was turned, scanning the booths as if looking for someone. Blaine had let his hair grow, the curls that he'd hated so much coming back. He was wearing a stylish coat, one that Kurt recognized as a present he'd given Blaine last winter.

"What are you doing here, Blaine?" He asked, his traitorous expression turning soft as he addressed Blaine's approaching figure.

"I miss you." Kurt narrowed his eyes at that. A few weeks ago and that line would have worked. Even now he was so tempted to tell Blaine that he missed him too. He did miss Blaine still. He missed Blaine every single day when he walked into the bathroom in the morning and saw the single toothbrush sitting beside the sink. He missed Blaine when he left for school, turning to remind someone who wasn't there to lock the door when they left. He missed Blaine on Monday, Wednesday and Thursday when he had a long break between classes at lunch time and he realized he would be eating alone. He missed Blaine all the time. "One of our friends mentioned you started spending time at a diner, so I looked in all of the ones close to our apartment until I found you. I love you so much. Just let me explain."

"Blaine…" Kurt thought about saying no, but Blaine looked so sad, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Before he could change his mind, Blaine took the seat Kurt had been saving for Dave.

Blaine started talking the moment he sat. Kurt tried to follow his words, but they washed over him without leaving a mark. It was everything Blaine had tried to say before. Kurt caught snippits, but they did nothing. "Sorry…love you…stupid mistake…didn't mean anything…"

"Have you been with her all this time?" Kurt asked, interrupting Blaine's tirade. The other man stopped, a pained expression crossing his face and telling Kurt all he needed to know. "Of course you have. How stupid do you think I am?"

"I know you're not stupid, Kurt. You're the best person I know." Blaine leaned close, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and he didn't have it in him to pull away, but he did have the strength to not wrap his arm around Blaine. He felt Blaine's hand card through his hair and then lips press against his. He just sat motionless until the kiss. Then he pulled away, shrugging Blaine's arm off his shoulder, but it just fell to Kurt's hand, wrapping it in warmth Kurt didn't want.

"I can't do this, Blaine. Just…please leave." He hadn't moved far, still leaning towards Blaine just as Blaine was leaning towards him.

"Don't you love me, Kurt? I made a mistake. Please…" Blaine's words were spoken in a passionate whisper and Kurt felt his control waver as his eyes flicked down to Blaine's lips.

"No, Blaine," Kurt said, hardening his heart. If he sent Blaine away this time, it would be the last. But then he thought of Dave, and realized that even though he missed Blaine, he had survived. He'd made it past the days of lying in bed watching sad movies and eating endless amounts of junk food to fill the void in his heart. He had slowly pulled himself back together, and the previous night he had managed to put back together the last piece. "If you love me, then you'll leave."

"It was the biggest mistake of my life, Kurt. We're soul mates, remember?" Kurt did remember. Of course he did. All the nights spent lying under sheet tents in their living room, kissing and just _existing_ together, whispering everything and nothing at all. But that was in another life. Another life he missed less and less with each passing moment.

"If we were soul mates you never would have cheated. And you wouldn't have strung me along for months – months where you pursued two other boys – before deciding you wanted to be with me. I met someone else, Blaine," He said. "And…and I think I might be falling in love with him…."

Before the words even left his mouth the door to the diner slammed and Kurt spun around. He couldn't believe he hadn't heard the door open, but none of that mattered now. The brief glance he'd seen of Dave's face had looked so pained and Kurt hated that he put it there. He ripped his hand from Blaine's and took off after Dave. He heard Blaine's voice calling after him, but ignored it. It felt good to walk away from Blaine once and for all. There was no lingering attachment dragging him into the past any longer. When he got to the diner, his hand didn't even hesitate on the entrance.

"Dave! Wait!" Dave had a head start and longer legs, but Kurt knew his voice could be heard over the crowd of people on the street. Dave didn't stop or even slow, but Kurt caught up with him, grabbing his hand and pulling it back so Dave would stop. "Please, Dave."

"What do you want, Kurt?" Dave asked, hurt transformed to anger. "I saw you kiss him."

"It's not what you think," Kurt said, frantically searching for the words to make everything write again. "I was waiting for you when he showed up. He wanted me to listen to him, but I don't want him back. I want you!"

The last part slipped past his lips before he was even aware of what he was saying, but he didn't want to take them back. He may not know much about Dave, and Dave may still have a lot to find out about Kurt, but Kurt was looking forward to learning. From the way Dave returned the kiss, instant and strong and tasting of coffee and toothpaste, he was as well.


End file.
